Once upon a time, on the realm of Deathwing EU, the guild of <Lockdown> were the most successful, astounding guild that had ever been seen in Azeroth. All wearing their shiney gear in Orgimmar, flexing at the poor peons around them who had never seen the inner walls of Ulduar or even Naxxrammas, Lockdown members were proud to be heroes. So proud in fact, that they were devastated to be selfishly killing the monsters of the world without giving anything back to the community.

All of those lowly peons of Orgimmar would never get to feel the satisfaction of the Ulduar greats falling to their knees (or running back to a certain spot in the room and inviting them to open a chest). Lockdown couldn’t continue to be so victorious and worthy without contributing their fair share to those that would never get to see these marvellous events directly.

“What are we going to do?” squealed the guild master at his minions. “We can’t forget about all of the ‘little people’ that have helped us become the greatest guild on Deathwing! We must do something!”

But nobody could think of anything. They sat in the old guild hall for quite some time, until the sun began to rise outside and the embers of the wooden fire began to crackle and fade away. And then…

“I’ve got it, mon!” called out a troll, excited. “We could invite them to come with us!”

“No, that will never work,” the guild master sighed, placing his corroding head into his rotten hands (he was undead, if you didn’t get it). “Only so many people can enter the dungeon. It’s always been that way.” Nobody knew why, but it was true, so they went back to thinking.

The door to the guild hall creaked open. An elderly tauren hobbled into the room, using his old staff as a walking stick. The guild members looked at him in dismay. Who was this tauren and why had he just invited himself into the room?

He said, “I was standing outside the door. I heard your discussion, and I think I have the perfect answer.”

“You do?” the guild master squeaked, excited. The tauren looked senile, but maybe he had an idea. It was worth finding out.

“Yes,” the tauren replied. “You should make a live stream of the events. You can blast them onto a huge screen in the middle of Orgrimmar for everybody to see. Use trade channel to advertise, or even spam. People must see your success. They must be able to share that glory with you.”

“That’s it!” grinned the guild master. “It’s perfect!” He pointed at a random number of trolls and orcs. “You, sort out the live streaming. You!” He pointed at a level one blood elf. “You start spamming trade chat with our mission – to show the realm our kill of Vezax on hard mode! We will be famous! It’s perfect!”

And so, the plans were in motion. Lockdown rallied the troops, organised the magical screen to appear in the middle of Orgrimmar, and positioned a number of low levels in a city so that they could spam trade chat with links. And the day came. They stood in their formation with their prettiest garments on, with the strongest elixirs and the most reliable fighters. “It is time, men!” the guild leader rallied them before they charged into battle. “It is time to show everybody exactly what we are good at!”

Twenty five members of the Horde charged into battle with the trash before General Vezax (hardmode). They wiped. And they wiped again.

“Turn off the live stream!” called out an ashamed guild master. “Don’t let them see it!”

But it was too late. In Orgrimmar, a worthy and noble tauren druid, destined for many great things, had been one of the only ones in the very small crowd that had bothered to watch Lockdown’s attempts. Watching his heroes, he felt an innate disappointment not dissimilar to the emotional devastation of his level 80 birthday where he didn’t acquire any new shapeshift forms. The anger rose inside of him – all of the emotional investment in Lockdown, his heroes, his idols – was wasted! He needed revenge… It became his mission from that moment on to bring the truth about Lockdown to the masses.

==============

“Posting progress on MMo-champ. Spamming tradechat for livestream. Wannabe Ensidia ? Now you only miss sponsors, fans and a community website.” Vewy embawassing indeedy-dums. Lockdown invited the server to watch their victory on a hardmode General Vezax, but couldn’t kill the trash and quickly turned off the live stream in an attempt to save their dignity… Seems Morani wasn’t willing to let it go though. Awesome.

– Katie

P.S. Please remember to check out the comments to this post. We love it when a person we have invited into our hearts and blog posts makes an actual appearance with comments and flames. Incarnia, a self-proclaimed maverick, gives her point of view on the whole “boob scandal” of Al’Akir. *munches*

Well, it does mine anyway. At least if it’s other people’s self loathing. After spending about 2 hours trawling the EU forums I was sadly disappointed at the severe lack of anything. Did people become civil overnight? That is, until I stumbled upon Deathwing (WELL I SAY ME) and I pretty much had my (YES MY) work done for me. Long proclaimed a dead server, by themselves at least as I really have no idea nor do I care, you can’t visit a topic without it devolving into drama within the first 5 posts. Seriously. There’s not even something specific I can cover here. Made a kill video? Learn to render, you fucking moron. Claimed a server first? Then your guild are a bunch of incompetent retards looking for attention, because it’s Deathwing, who cares? Transferred a guild, bigged it up then fallen on your arse a month later? HAHA (Yeah I’m looking at you Redrum-DB). Not even 10 year old girls that cry on national TV are safe from this server’s scorn.

But fear not, for one thing can redeem this seemingly lost, hate-consumed server. Girls. IRL girls. At least if you want to do 2v2 arena on the mighty Deathwing, roll a female toon and be prepared for some sweet bukkake lovin’. If any of our readers happen to be employed in the mental health field, set up a private practice, you’ll make a killing.

Just take a look at all the nerdrage on that realm. It’s wonderful, and proves Marvin Gaye to be a real prophet when promoting the need for sexual healing.